Look at those legs! Glorious aren’t they?

Ignore the slightly comedic spotty socks and Aldi’s cheapest SPD MTB shoes and SWOON at those legs of STEEL!  Mud splattered, ever-so-slightly bramble scratched, pillars of pure POWER!

Those are the very limbs that this evening reclaimed a prestigious Strava King of the Mountains crown that was lost for less than 24 hours. To be honest I didn’t know I had a KOM and wouldn’t have been particularly arsed about losing it until a notification came through to my phone that my crown had been taken, nay STOLEN.

My first reaction was what? where? why? but sure enough, on a tired return from a first ever ride over the Pennines back in March I had passed through a mile long ‘segment’ between the M60 and Heaton Park’s perimeter.  I don’t know who defines these segments along which people can compete but I have no desire to define any and whoever defined the ‘Boundary Wall’ segment mustn’t have set a challenging target.  Nevertheless ‘Darren’ from Middleton (though probably equally oblivious at the time) snatched MY title from me.  I followed him on Strava and (grudgingly) gave him ‘Kudos’ and commented that I had noticed he had my crown. He followed me back and replied.

It was dry, the sun was shining this evening and to show I really meant business I put my shorts on for the homeward commute.  I was to be taken over 3km out of my way to take in the segment but I figured it was worth the extra effort.  A good run of lights got the legs spinning and well warmed up but I remembered to ease them as I climbed Leicester Road.  I attacked from the start of the segment with my legs spinning, sadly only one clipped in as my left leg would have fouled the pannier hanging on the frame at the back. I went through at least 2 big puddles not caring one jot for the spray, people I was in the ZONE.  I know this stretch well enough to know I find it a little uncomfortable (it’s a bit bumpy for a hybrid commuting hack) but I powered through, teeth gritted and eyes bulging.

I now have my title back.  You may bow down before me.  And for your information, the incline of this particular mountain on the outskirts of Simister that I was crowned king of was 1.5%

Oh Yeah!

Legs of steel!

Lungs of iron!

Eye of the tiger!

I’d pretty much stopped commuting by bike at the end of last year and found in January I’d lost the base fitness I needed for a painless 2 hour ride so I put together a programme of a dozen rides to bring me up to 75 mile fitness again.

The training rides were completed on my trusty Saracen commuting hybrid, the bike I knew I’d be using yesterday, but almost all of the riding was on the road and straight uninterrupted roads wherever possible. I kept an excel sheet with distance, time, average speed also factored in the relative lumpiness of the rides with a ft/hour climbing ratio. I could see progress as the rides got longer in time and distance but I hadn’t made any allowance for trail riding.

So yesterday 6 of us set off from the Sage offices at 8am in glorious early morning sunshine. Ian, Chris and James are riding from London to Paris in a couple of months time so the 60 trail ride fitted nicely into their spring cycling programme. Amy like myself had set the ride as an ultimate challenge and she was going to be travelling twice as far as she’d ever ridden before. I, however, was the only one who would be riding back from Southport.

The mixed terrain (as well as the A frames and barriers along the trail) nags at you and compromises your pace in a manner that is more significant than you expect. Progress was slower than we all anticipated and the incentive of a late Nandos lunch in Southport to fuel me for the 40 mile on road return was quickly disappearing.

We paused at Hale, just short of half way along the trail and I grabbed a hot steak and kidney pie to supplement my stash of supplements. An hour later we were at the Knotty Ash Sainbury’s for another scheduled stop, but rather than wait for hot food I grabbed a sandwich and decided to split from the rest of the group. I had to be back home for 6:30 so needed to be leaving Southport no later than 3pm. I made quick progress along the remaining 3rd of the trail with Endomondo chirping out lots of sub 2 minute kilometre splits. Although I noticed it start to drizzle I didn’t appreciate the stiffening easterly breeze that was giving me a helping hand. I reached Southport just before 3pm, put on my waterproof and then turned around to face the wind. I then realised how much help I’d had during the previous hour. I shouted and swore at the elements as I took the A570 out of the town and tried to comfort myself by tucking into my supply of caffeine energy gels.

I knew I had two climbs on the way home: Parbold and Haigh. I’d done the latter a couple of months earlier and didn’t like the way it dragged on, Parbold was unknown to me and as it turns out, a bit steeper. Though feeling more mentally than physically weary, I got off to push the bike up the Parabold hill and to stretch out my legs. As I reached Haigh, again I dismounted for the initial steepest section. I was looking forward to the descent through Aspull but it was at that point my gear shifter broke and found myself stuck in 2nd gear. I still had the front derailleur to give me a choice of 3 speeds but all of them were to low to do anything but coast on the downhill sections. So the last 15 miles dragged but there were a couple of moments when I was grateful that I was stuck in 2nd and not anything higher.

I got home about 6:30 and had to be showered and out for 7pm so no relaxing soak in the bath but other than some saddle soreness from 11 hours of riding and a left hand that still feels a bit fizzy as I type, I got away without any aches in my back or legs. The bike is already at the local bike shop to have the shifter replaced so I don’t feel quite so bad about driving to work tomorrow.

Thank you to everyone who has sponsored and encouraged us, I enjoyed the challenge of the ride though next time I set myself a distance target I’ll ensure it’s all on tarmac.

The training rides are over and despite the cold weather this year I seem to have missed the worst of it and only ducked out of a couple of Saturday morning rides.  As the mileages have increased thankfully the backpain I’ve suffered in the past has not returned.

I ran out of new football grounds to cycle to having found Huddersfield, Stockport and Preston’s Deepdale for the first time, so I returned to Goodison Park and Anfield for my last big ride.  I found a few rugby grounds too with Warrington, St Helens, Widnes and Salford ticked off and as it was Grand National day on Saturday I visited Aintree for the first time   

Despite ridiculously early starts I enjoyed all the rides out to these destinations.  The ride to Huddersfield was my favourite as I was heading towards the sunrise and once up on the moors with the climbing out of the way I could admire some early morning views.  As the distances increased I struggled but mostly because I was riding with an uncomfortable urgency, clock watching and wanting to get back home before too much of the weekend had disappeared and so not allowing time to fuel up properly before or during.  A steady flow of budget caffeine drinks seemed to get me through.  Although I spent most of last weekend’s 75 mile ride pounding up and down the East Lancs, I did appreciate the sunshine and similar weather this weekend would be perfect though I think the forecast is warmer but wetter.

I’ve ridden to Southport before and the TPT trail is flat but not smooth enough for a road bike.  A cyclecross bike would be perfect but I don’t have one amongst my fleet so I’ll be on the trusty Saracen hybrid commuting hack.  The 40 mile return from Southport on road will be when I’ll be tested and I might have to stop for a pint to help me through. 

The other challenge I’ve set myself is a first bike ride over 100 miles.  The most I’ve done before is about 75 miles and to make things tougher I’ll be riding to Southport on the Trans Pennine Trail which is flat but along surfaces that prevent me using my road bike to eat up the miles.  Instead I’ll be doing the ride on a 10 year old £300 hybrid with kickstand and honky horn. 

The ride is in memory of a colleague who died suddenly last year.  Ian was a keen time trial cyclist and having just moved to Manchester we were looking forward to riding around the velodrome together in one of their open sessions.  There will be a group of us from Sage riding 60 miles from our Salford office along the TPT to Southport with some of us turning it into a round trip.  We’ll be raising funds for Cardiac Risk in the Young and our sponsorship page is here if you are able to support us.

I started training soon after new year introducing a weekly long ride to more frequent cycle commutes.  I put together a programme of 12 rides (which I’m halfway through) to steadily increase my mileage and time in the saddle and all was going well up until a couple of weeks ago.  I rode 3 hours non-stop to Wigan and Standish and back which included a bit of a climb around Haigh Hall as well as making me more familiar with the second half of the road route home from Southport.  The weekend before last was a bit busy so I ducked out of even a 2 hour ride, but the weekend just past it was niggling lower back pain together with a fair measure of laziness that stopped me going out.  To get back on track I’m going to have to push hard this weekend and a route I’ve lined up is Huddersfield and back.  The Terrier’s Galpharm stadium is the next closest league football ground for me to tick off having found quite a number whilst training for a C2C ride a few years ago.  I’ll trick myself into considering the journey as a couple of 2 hour rides back to back with a McDonald’s breakfast close to the turning point.  I’ll be setting off before dawn and hope to enjoy the sunrise as I reach Saddleworth Moor.   It’ll be my first ride into the Pennines and if the weather’s bad I might postpone it another week but hopefully by blogging about this ride I’ll actually commit to doing it.

I don’t know if it’s wrong of me to judge another rider by the shape of his legs and whether his feet are fixed to his pedals but that’s what I tend to do.  Last night on the homeward commute I was (yet again) faced with the question of whether or not to overtake the cyclist in front and the indicators were that I shouldn’t.  The guy in question was on a silver Trek hybrid and going a a good steady pace but looked like he had the potential to go faster and therefore might respond if I tried to go past him.

He had lycra cycling shorts on exposing chiselled and possibly shaven legs and his feet were attached to the pedals with toe clips.  So I patiently held back (astride the Mighty Saracen) as I progressed along Bury new Road between the McDonalds at Great Cheetham St West and the junction with Knoll St. However, after we passed though the green light at the top of Knoll St he hesitated and I knew I had to pass him using my special manoeuvre.

For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of the northward stretch of Bury New Road after 5pm on a Monday to Thursday, this is where the traffic is reduced to a crawl along the A56.  2 lanes merge to 1 after the junction with Northumberland St and a very welcome cycle lane appears but getting to it safely is tricky.  At the junction with Northumberland there is a 3rd turn right filter lane but the 2 lanes crossing the junction are packed together making it dangerous to either hug the curb or squeeze between the 2 northbound lanes of queuing traffic.  Our friend on the Trek (the dick) was looking to pavement hop past the junction and jump back on the road when the cycle lane appeared.  There was an alternative, my special manoeuvre, “Buffalo Gals”.

“Buffalo Gals go round the outside, round the outside, round the outside”

At the junction I took a line to the right hand side of the 2 lanes of traffic and then as the road narrowed went ’round the outside’ onto the opposite side of the road (because there was no southbound traffic) and once I’d got to the point where 2 lanes had merged to 1 and cycle lane was there, I swung across to a position close to the curb.  This looks dramatic and I’m sure lots of drivers curse me as I do it as they are so envious of my quicker progress but I swear it’s not putting me or anyone else at risk and I wouldn’t do it if there was on coming traffic.

So there you go, that was my Buffalo Gals move done.  Trek man was behind me now as we climbed up past the fire station but he caught me at a Moor Lane red light; he cycled past me as I was queued in traffic.  He was on the pavement again, not going quickly but his next manoeuvre was stupid as he crossed Moor Lane and skipped onto the road just in front of Witchway express bus that was about to stop at a bus stop.  I wasn’t trying to chase him but did catch him up as we climbed to the Hilton Lane lights.  This time he stayed on the road but as the lights were about to change and we were to set off from behind an advanced stop line box he deferred to me saying ‘I think you’d better go first’.

You bet your ass I’m going first knobhead.  He didn’t catch me again.

Congratulations to Alistair and Jonny Brownlee on their gold and bronze Olympic triathlon medals.  Both were favourite to medal but let’s not forget those are our first ever Olympic Triathlon medals and Alistair has come back from a torn achilles tendon earlier this year.  Jonny was absolutely spent after crossing the finish line and I think of all the events it’s the one which demonstrates the ultimate mix of endurance and intensity.

I’m looking forward to having a crack at a full distance Triathlon at the start of October having only done a couple of sprint distance events to date.  So inspired by the Brownlee’s efforts and with both weather and time on my side for once, I was able to get out on the road bike for the first ride and run brick session of the year.  The cycling was comfortable and steady around my usual quiet 20k circuit.  I had to stop at a couple of extra sets of lights than I might at the weekend but went into my garage transition zone thinking I had left enough in my legs.  They didn’t feel too alien as they started to go up an down but were heavy and unresponsive and although I tried to push I couldn’t lift my pace to where I wanted or expected it to be.

I’m running faster than ever at the moment but to put Alistair Brownlee’s multi-discipline efforts into perspective; I cycled and ran half the distance Alistair did and my 5k time was 4 minutes off my personal best whilst his 10k time yesterday was about 90 seconds off that of Mo Farah’s Olympic Gold time…. and he strolled across the finish line too.  Amazing.

Whilst Bradley Wiggins extends his lead in this year’s Tour de France I got in the mood along with a number of other cyclists on Bury New Road this evening.  I try to be careful who I overtake as I don’t particularly like it happening to me.  To be perfectly honest the reluctance to overtake is mostly due to the potential shame of the overtaken cyclist fighting back and regaining their ‘position’ (which is exactly what I would do unless my opponent was lycra’d to the hilt and riding a bike worth £1,000 more than mine).

So I set off from the McDonald’s lights at the junction with Great Cheetham St. and respectfully took my position behind a couple of guys that had set off at a reasonable pace.  At the head was a newish white Specialized hybrid belonging to a Strangeways prison warden that I’d met a few months back on the way to work.  Tucked in behind him was a giant of a man on another decent looking hybrid but seemed to be bouncing up an down on his saddle and putting in a lot of effort to keep up with Mr Strangeways.  Unfortunately I had set off for work in trainers this morning, so without the usual benefit of my SPDs I hung back more patiently than normal on my vintage Saracen (with pannier hanging off one side) and tucked in behind them to form a 3 man peloton.  I was also hindered by riding in tight jeans rather than having changed to shorts.  After half a mile I figured I could take them and shake them, I just had to chose my moment.  Behind me was a black unbranded light looking bike that I was aware had jumped the last lights as we crossed his path.  The rider was all in black lycra and wasn’t carrying rucksack/luggage but he too had initially shown respect for the rest of us and was no doubt enjoying the benefit of hugging my back wheel as I in turn benefited from the large bouncing frame of the bloke immediately in front of me.  Then a guy drifted past the lot of us on a Focus road bike and it all went off.

I would have let him go, but ninja stealth bike behind me didn’t and followed in his wake past the rest us.  I wasn’t going to stand for that and decided to make my move too.  The Focus broke away from ninja who had let his overtaking pace drop just a little too much.  I passed him with some ease and then pushed on to catch the road bike.  This was getting a bit silly.  I tucked in behind the road bike for another couple of miles with no intention of regain the ‘place’ he had taken from me but just to bother him a bit.  He was saved by a pedestrian crossing in Prestwich village turning red and a break in the oncoming traffic giving me the option of turning right up the ginnel by the side of the Red Lion.

I should be taking the road bike to work but the weather’s just so unpredictable at the moment.  I do enjoy riding the Saracen and get a buzz from frightening £1k bikes and their riders with it.  As the chain and cassette need to be changed I might replace crank, derailleurs and shifters and then see how much more I can get out of it.  I suppose I should look for a lightweight honky horn and a carbon fibre kickstand too.

It’s been quite a while since my last cycling update but lighter mornings mean I’m back in the saddle again.  I’m in London for a week long course and after a couple of pints of Cobra all alone on Brick Lane last night, I toyed with the idea of hiring a Boris bike for a bit of a laugh.  However sense took hold and I waited until early this morning to take one out for a spin.

I’d ridden a Parisian Velib a few years ago, which is their equivalent scheme of hire bikes.  A detailed report of this particular adventure is elsewhere on this blog but being a weekday I though that rather than spend an hour sightseeing I would ‘road test’ the bike in an ironic, more silly than actually helpful Top Gear manner by belting along the A13 in a tribute to one of my heros, Billy Bragg.  His A13 trunk road to the sea is his Essex boy answer to getting your kicks on Route 66.

I was heading east at about 6am so was looking forward to enjoying seeing the sun rise but that event turned out to be just as dull as the bike was.  Hire bikes are not designed for my kind of high tempo man-on-a-mission thrashing about.  It was geared similarly to the Velib with 1st gear being a complete waste of time for me on the flat roads of London.  I only dropped down to 2nd gear when going up hill but the bike is so heavy with its large, thick and wide tyres offering massive rolling resistance so that the slightest incline was very noticeable.

The ride back was a bit more interesting as I tailed a cheap but spritely Brompton for a couple of miles along the Cycle Superhighway CS3.  He showed his superior agility around the crossings and junctions whilst I caught him on the straights.  Even in top gear my legs were spinning far quicker than his.  Some plonker on a Carrera MTB objected to me overtaking him and foolishly tried in vain to chase me down for a while and then there was a nobber drifting along whilst cleated into a Giant road bike.  He was doing 3-4 mph less than me so I had to overtake but then he also chose to drift through every set of lights as well.  As we approached the city he speeded up significantly but I still pushed past him and ‘won’ before turning off at Aldgate.

It’s not about the bike anyway.  There are plenty of cyclists around London but the hire system doesn’t seem seems as popular as the French one was 4 years ago.  Unlike my experience there I found every bike I inspected in London to be in working order and had availability at my closest station rather spending 30 minutes wandering the streets of Paris before riding.  I averaged about 13mph over a 45 minute ride and my quickest km was 2:13 which is a respectable 17mph.  Endomondo also claims I hit 23 mph at one point, which was nice, if not particularly memorable.

I’ve finally given up on cycle advocacy, it has worn me down over the last 7 years.  Most of the time it felt like flogging a dead horse and as there are other areas of my life I would like to focus on I think it’s better if I am not described (by myself or others) as a cycling enthusiast.

A number of things have brought this about but the straw that broke the camel’s back was yet another near miss tonight which means I can no longer recommend cycling to my local friends with any conviction.  I know of someone who has ended up with a damaged spine after encouraging him to cycle to Manchester from Prestwich so don’t want to feel responsible for anyone else’s discomfort.

Without boring you with a blow by blow account of tonights episode a taxi mini-bus drove across my path in Sedgely Park with no intention of stopping despite me approaching at speed with right of way along Bury New Road.  He was heading to the squash club so I gave chase knowing it was a dead end and basically swore repeatedly at the driver with increasing venom until he apologised for what he had just done.

I’ve given up any pretence of doing any Sustrans Volunteer Rangering ever again.  As I cycled along the (very useful) bit of NCN Route 6 through Middlewood Locks that 4 years on isn’t yet signed by the council I smirked at the ridiculously oversized end of cycle lane sign (at the end of 50m of cycle lane) which will probably be highlighted by fellow cyclists as a ‘facility of the month’ and then I laughed at the newly re-opened Great George’s St crossing of Chapel St which cost £110k of Salford City Council’s tiny cycling budget 3 years ago and has been dug up and lost many of the marking that were carefully painted on.    So no more talking shop cycle forum meetings where cycle enthusiasts disagree and defend their own on road vs off road agendas and no more Bike Fridays that don’t attract any new riders (sorry Rich).

I have another blog with a different focus.  This one will remain live because I do enjoy reading some older entries, it sometimes resolves household disputes about what happened when and it seems to provide a useful resource for the many people who Google the term ‘Vimto Milkshake’ (as well as ‘Prestwich knobhead’).

Laters

In some previous blogs I may have given the impression that cycle commuting is all about swearing, gesturing and avoiding near death experiences.  No no no, not at all my dear reader!  So for the purpose of balance I’ll tell you about four of the 2 wheeled friends I encountered during today’s commutes.

As I made my way through downtown Prestwich early this morning, I spotted fellow middle aged blogging bicycle evangalist and all round good egg, Darrell.  It took some time to catch him up but as he eased towards the soon-to-change-to-green-lights at St Ann’s road I seized the opportunity to tuck in behind him for the uphill to Hilton Lane before making him aware of my presence.  As we dipped through Sedgley Park I took the lead and returned the favour letting him tuck in behind me for the climb to Moor Lane.  We picked up speed on the next down hill but then Darrell had to turn off and I was alone again.

Then, not far ahead, I spotted my friend/adversary/nemesis Mr Boots.  He no longer seems to wear boots when he cycles but he’ll always be Mr Boots to me.  I sneaked up behind him and then blasted past to ensure he didn’t catch my tail.  He didn’t.

On the way home I pulled up along side a funky looking Apollo 125 (as pictured above) at the end of Silk Street and I noticed the rider was looking across at me and checking out my ride.  I couldn’t see much of his helmeted face but his eyes definately conveyed the emotion of envy.   I was astride a 6/7 year old battered Saracen hybrid hack (with kickstand) but he definately wanted her.  What on earth was going on?  Mr Apollo spoke and confirmed that I’d read him correctly as he explained that he’d just had to stop cycling and wished he was in my shoes.  No you don’t buddy boy, traffic’s starting to get dangerously heavy, it’s about to rain, you’ll be home before I get soaked and with 11bhp between his legs he had 20 times my ability to get out of trouble (I rate my output at about half that of a horse).  He still had L plates on and had not yet acquired the normal behaviours of a 125cc rider so I caught him at the next set of lights and asked if he wanted to swap steeds.  He was going to Eccles so thought it a little too far to consider striking such a deal and after that we parted company.

The lights were favourable to me and I certainly wasn’t dawdling but back at the Hilton Lane/Bury New Road junction I was surprised to spot Stuart from work making his way back to Simister.  He was waiting at red lights at the top of Hilton Lane whilst I, on green, turned right into Scholes Lane ahead of him.  He had set off from the bike racks at the same time as me and I asked if he was going along Ordsall Lane but his route was to take in Agecroft and Rainsough Brow, the steepest bit of road around these parts.  At the time I thought rather him than me and I was amazed to find we took the same amount of time to cover those 5 miles as I’m sure my route is more direct and he was on a MTB too (though clipped in with SPDs like me).  I might try his route for a bit of variety particularly when I know BNR is going to be busy.

So there you go, friends and comradeship on the roads and proof that it’s not all snarling and cursing for us cyclists.